Kneesocks
by Genevieve Darcy Granger
Summary: Vivienne is one of Negan's wives, though she doesn't feel as loved as the others. Suddenly, though, Negan convinces her of her worth in a few words and through some actions.


Vivienne was in the wives' parlor, browsing their one bookshelf for something new to read. There wasn't much to choose from since most of the Sanctuary's books that were found were kept in the library. In addition to that, the Saviors didn't go out of their way to collect books since they weren't a priority. Negan – Vivienne's first husband – mainly brought them girly stuff to keep them appeased.

Not that Vivienne minded the nail polish or makeup or nice clothes; it was just that it was difficult to find that stuff that looked good on her. All of the other wives were thin and girly. They knew exactly how to doll themselves up, to find the right colors to really make their eyes pop, to keep their nails trimmed and manicures, and to keep everything _trimmed_.

Even before the end of the world, Vivienne had never been one to put makeup on regularly or wear heels higher than an inch or even wear skirts and dresses. She'd never shaved down there before, and didn't know how to even start. Vivienne was too afraid to start now in case she'd cut herself.

So, Vivienne didn't really make use of the gifts Negan brought back much. She'd chosen a lipstick here and there, but hated them because they didn't work well with her dark skin. She tried nail polish, too, but met the same problem. In the end, she gave it to Amber and the next time she saw her wearing it she marveled how perfect it looked contrasting with Amber's pale skin.

What was most frustrating for Vivienne was trying to find dresses and lingerie that fit. The other wives, like Frankie and Tanya, often flaunted how they could wear corsets and other racy leather items. Vivienne had to pick through negligees – and often they just wouldn't fit. Next to all the other wives, Vivienne was a piss poor comparison, and she often rotated the same three pieces of clothes that fit.

Besides, she'd rather have books over clothes any day if Negan wanted to buy her affection that way. Again, not that Negan would have to buy Vivienne's affection. When Negan first formed the Sanctuary and made a harem for himself, Vivienne was surprised she was picked. Frankie and Tanya made sense since they always vied for his affection, and Michaela made sense, too, for similar reasoning. But then Negan offered Vivienne a spot, too, and she'd barely spoken three words to the guy. She'd kept mostly to herself, so she was surprised to have caught his eye and be offered 'marriage' as well. Being alone with not many allies or friends, Vivienne said yes.

Being Wife #4 didn't really mean anything, though, because Frankie and Tanya mostly kept him busy. Negan spent over three months just with Michaela after he got tired of Frankie and Tanya. Vivienne didn't mind, just stayed patient. She enjoyed the other perks of being a wife, like being able to eat fresh fruit. Besides, she'd figured it be her turn soon.

Then Amber came and stole Negan away. Amber traded her hand in marriage for medicine for her mother; but then Amber went and actually fell in love with Negan. Out of all the wives, she was the most possessive of Negan. Michaela was indifferent, not emotionally attached; Frankie and Tanya loved each other more than Negan. But Amber – had Mark before Negan – actually admitted to loving him, even when he wasn't around. Negan didn't like the clinginess like that – he made it clear that he didn't love any of his wives that way at all – so he started distancing himself…by finding a new wife instead of finally coming to Vivienne.

Now that's when Vivienne started to wonder just what the hell was wrong with her. She blamed herself for not making an effort like the others, for not actively trying to seek him out, but she didn't want to come off as whiny or that she was using him. Vivienne decided that everything would be on his terms, that way she wouldn't jeopardize her place. But it was more than her physical appearance that held her back because Vivienne was scared. She'd never been intimate, never been kissed, and wasn't sure what Negan would want from her. He could be intimidating, too, so Vivienne laid low and didn't stop Negan from proposing to the diabetic woman, Tina.

Tina never became a wife, though. Sherry – her sister – did instead. For a while, Negan was busy handling that. Not only did he break Dwight and then personally train him to be one of his lieutenants, but Negan adamantly tried to get Sherry to like him. Of course, it worked, and Vivienne had to watch Negan work his charm over Sherry. That's when Vivienne actually started to care, to be jealous. This was dangerous, so she started avoiding the parlor when Negan came calling. It wasn't hard to do; he barely noticed her absence.

"Are you gonna pick something, Vivienne, or just stand there?" Michaela asked, not unkindly.

Startled out of her thoughts, Vivienne moved out of the way. "Sorry, it's just that I've read all of these."

"Why not go to the library then?" Michaela inquired flippantly as she ran her finger over the row of books, reading their titles on their spines.

"Won't he be mad if I leave? We have to send Joey to the commissary and kitchens when we want something, so I doubt I'd be allowed to go to the library alone."

"Ask Fat Joey to go there for you or better yet, ask Fat Joey to go with you." Michaela pulled one of the books from its place, tucking it under her arm as she finally turned to look at Vivienne.

Nervously, Vivienne shuffled her feet. "Should I ask for permission first?"

"What you should be asking Negan for is some new clothes, Vivienne," Amber rudely broke in. She was lounging on a couch with a glass of champagne in her hand, looking bored. When Amber got bored, she stirred up trouble, and since Negan had been preoccupied with Sherry, Amber had started going back to Mark. For that – among other reasons – Vivienne had been trying her best to avoid her. Amber wasn't outright mean to Vivienne, but she did make rude comments to her, often about her weight or her hair or her skin or just anything – now it was her clothes. "I've seen you wear that dress at least three times this past week. Books? Boring. You need a new dress, one that actually fits you."

"Does someone need a new fucking dress?" Negan made his entrance loudly, Lucille casually resting against his shoulder. Vivienne's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him; he was in rare form today, just oozing with confidence and his smile was so broad and genuine, the humor reflecting in his eyes. "Don't tell me you're the fucking one asking for new clothes, Amber. I just got you some cute shit last week." He didn't sound mean, just matter of fact.

Under Negan's attention, Amber immediately sat up and started simpering, "No, no, it's not me that needs it. It's Vivienne." She pointed one of her pink painted nails at Vivienne, and Vivienne shrunk backwards, wishing she could just duck behind the couch and out of sight.

Spinning around to face Vivienne, Negan leaned backwards and gestured at her using Lucille. "Vivienne! Where the fuck have you been hiding away? I've missed seeing you around." His smiles stretched impossibly wider, still charming and handsome, and he spun Lucille like a baton.

"I haven't been anywhere," Vivienne answered him, unsure of what to do. Luckily the other wives emerged from their rooms at the sound of Negan's booming voice, even Michaela returning with the book forgotten. They made a racket greeting him warmly, coyly, too. Thankful for them, Vivienne remained at the back, edging backwards to see if she could escape to her own room she shared with Michaela.

"Alright ladies," Negan's voice easily cut over all the noise, and they lapsed into an obedient silence. If Negan loved anything more than sex and the baseball bat, it would be listening to himself talk. "It seems I arrived right on fucking time with some good shit for you." Making a grand gesture behind him, Negan welcomed Fat Joey to the parlor, huffing and puffing from carrying a box up five flights of stairs. "Fat Joey, just set that down fucking anywhere and go catch your breath somewhere the fuck else. Thank you."

Fat Joey nodded and gently set the box down towards the center of the parlor. He waved goodbye to the wives who chimed in their thank yous, too, and then he left. Vivienne like Fat Joey, he was always nice to them and told good jokes.

"Okay, ladies," Negan's voice startled Vivienne out of her thoughts. "Take whatever you like. Managed to recover this shit from fucking fancy little boutique. I doubt any of those dead fuckers will miss it."

As the other women surged forward to look, Vivienne started backing up. She had just turned her back to them to duck inside her room when Negan's voice once again made her jump. "Vivienne! Girl, what's wrong? Don't you leave me this way."

Biting her bottom lip nervously, but internally rolling her eyes at his dramatic nature, Vivienne obediently turned back around and joined the other women at the box. She half-heartedly started digging through it, knowing that she wouldn't find anything for herself. Of course, Vivienne was right. The dresses were snatched up by Tanya, Frankie, and Amber as they distributed it between the three of them. Michaela had her eyes on the lingerie, which she took no problem. Even Sherry found a pair of thigh-high boots that she liked and a little bottle of perfume still intact. There was hardly anything left for Vivienne, so she dismissed it. The leftovers would be sold in the commissary.

"What, didn't see any shit to your liking, Vivienne?" Negan's question was casual, but he was too close. Tanya, Frankie, and Amber had gone to their rooms to split the spoils and put away their clothes. Negan demanded tidiness in the parlor. Michaela left, too, and probably wouldn't come back. Sherry sat on one of the arm chairs, slipping on her boots and zipping them up. She was smart enough to keep quiet. The wives by now knew when trouble was brewing, and when to leave Negan alone. He hated to be interrupted as much as he hated when the wives would get jealous and squabble among themselves.

Ducking her head shyly, Vivienne was all too aware of her inadequacy when she could see Sherry's long, long legs out of the corner of her eye. "No, Negan, I'm always grateful for what you bring back."

"But?" Negan switched Lucille to his gloved hand so he could touch Vivienne's face, gently lifting her chin up. His face had laugh lines around his eyes, dimples, other wrinkles that showed his age as much as the grey in his beard, but his eyes were so soft, tender, and loving. Vivienne loved his face, especially when he smiled, but given that he was being serious now there wasn't a smile.

"There isn't any 'but' I'm happy," Vivienne assured him. Cautiously, she grabbed the hand that touched her cheek and brought it to her lips, kissing his fingertips. She rarely got moments of intimacy, so she wasn't going to spoil it complaining about lack of book choices. She'd handle it later with Fat Joey.

Humming disbelievingly, Negan argued, "Amber said you need clothes. Would you like some?"

"I don't want to be difficult…"

Swiftly, Negan cut her off. "I'm fucking offering, don't worry about it, Vivienne. You know I will always provide for you." He clicked his tongue, his face overcome with a sudden idea. "Oh shit, I haven't provided for you yet have I?"

"No, you've done more than enough for me and for everybody here. The Sanctuary would be nothing without you," and Vivienne meant every word. Running a community such as this one, with Saviors that aren't always the best of men, was a lot of pressure on Negan. Being a wife meant seeing a softer and more vulnerable side of Negan. It meant a lot that he could trust the wives not to take advantage of him just as much as they knew he would never lay a finger on them without their permission. Vivienne and the other wives didn't mind soothing him however they could, whether it meant sex or massages from Frankie or just talking with him like Michaela did.

Chuckling softly, Negan pulled his hand out of Vivienne's grip to tuck some of her black hair behind her ear, his eyes roving over her face. "No, my wife, I mean attend to my husbandly duties." Vivienne continued to start at him, so Negan blatantly stated, "I haven't fucked you yet."

Heating up under his stare, Vivienne placated him, "No, but I understand you've been busy. You came to me once but I was on my period so…"

Snapping his fingers, Negan cut in again, "Shit, I remember that. And then I had to deal with that missing community, and then all that shit with that slaughtered outpost and trying to find those fuckers who did it. Shit, you deserve more attention, Vivienne. I've been neglecting you. That's not good."

"It's fine, Negan." Vivienne didn't know why she was saying that when she knew that she wanted his attention. Maybe because she was afraid of becoming an obsessive fool like Amber, maybe it's because it's been too long and she didn't want to disappoint him.

"No, it's not fucking fine, Vivienne," Negan's voice was stern.

In that moment, Vivienne's breath got caught in her throat, and she lost herself in Negan's eyes. Being the center of his attention – of any man's attention, but especially Negan, who was undeniably all man – was not a feeling Vivienne was used to, but now that she had it, it was intoxicating. He had wrapped his arms around her waist, one hand cradling the base of her skull with his fingers buried in her hair. Vivienne was dimly aware that Lucille was in his other hand, but she couldn't care. Her hands somehow found themselves gripping the lapels of his open leather jacket. She wanted to kiss him. She hadn't kissed him since he had proposed, and that was a memory she replayed over and over again until it lost its charm and warm glow. Now she wanted to make a million more memories with him starting now.

Suddenly, this floral fragrance filled the air, and drifted across their noses. Negan's nose twitched adorably, and Vivienne barely caught herself from 'aw'-ing audibly at the sight. Then Vivienne's nose twitched, and she broke away from Negan, stepping away and sneezing loudly.

"Jesus, Sherry, you had to spray that shit now?" Negan sighed, annoyed. "No, no, don't say shit, Sherry. Just go to your room."

As Sherry left, Negan approached Vivienne again, who recovered from her sneezing fit. "Sherry's been pissing me off lately. Refusing to put out and now this," Negan muttered darkly. He didn't expect his wives to always be ready to fuck – it was one of the reasons he had so many. However, he had really been trying to seduce Sherry, but barely made it pass kissing with her.

A little surprised considering Sherry's softness towards Negan now, Vivienne admitted, "Sherry's been warming up to you, actually." Admittedly, Vivienne was also surprised that he hadn't slept with Sherry yet, but that made Vivienne feel better, too.

"You fucking thing so?"

"Yes, you're quite the charmer, Negan, very handsome and kind. Funny. What's not to like about you?" Vivienne sincerely meant that, too.

"Well, damn, Vivienne, you want to fuck now right here in the parlor? I bet you can stroke dick as well as you stroke ego," Negan dropped Lucille on the armchair Sherry vacated, eyeing Vivienne meaningfully.

Blushing, Vivienne smiled at him without meaning to, not even aware of why she was smiling. She finally had him alone and he was glowing and needy. Vivienne made her mind then that she wanted to fuck him before Sherry could. Throwing her arms around his neck, she kissed him fully on the mouth, capturing his bottom lip and nipping.

Negan groaned into the kiss and lifted her up in his arms, hitching her up until she had her legs wrapped around his narrow waist. His hands supported her weight under her rear, squeezing her appreciatively as if he were measuring the ripeness of a peach. Vivienne certainly felt like a juicy one.

Squealing in surprise at his actions, Vivienne clutched him tighter and didn't relax until he plopped backwards against the couch. Once they were comfortable there, Vivienne pulled back just enough to push his jacket off his shoulders, still kissing him fully, his tongue a hypnotic lure. She didn't care if they were in the parlor and all the other wives could walk in or hear them. Vivienne had heard more than enough of their sexual activities, so let them hear her now.

There was a ripping noise suddenly, and Vivienne pulled back in a daze at the sound, unsure of what happened. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that she's split her dress by straddling him like this. "Fuck!" She hissed angrily, mad at herself. Now she only had two dresses to wear.

Beneath her, Negan didn't seem to care. "Damn, you're even sexier when you're angry." He caught her face in his hands and brought her back for another kiss, bucking his hips up into the cradle of her thighs.

Distracted by Negan's kisses as his magical mouth moved down her neck to plant hickies, Vivienne forgot about the dress, hitching it up higher over her hips so he could have easier access to her. She was so wet it was uncomfortable, and she was dying to feel him. Vivienne doubted that Negan was any comfortable either with his erection trapped in his pants, so she quickly unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, reaching in his boxers and pulling him out. Negan was thick, long, and hot in her hand, skin like satin. Eagerly she stroked it, spreading his precum over the rest of him. She couldn't wait to feel all of him inside of her.

Abruptly, Vivienne stopped petting him when there was another ripping sound. "What the fuck?" She gasped softly, a little irritated.

Lifting his head and catching her eye, Negan smiled as he held up what was left of her panties. He tossed them to the side and grabbed her dress, tearing it more and more until Vivienne was completely bare.

Caught in an odd mixture of arousal at watching him do that and horror for not having any good panties anymore, Vivienne couldn't help but squeak indignantly, "Negan! Please! I don't have many clothes that actually fit me!"

"Shit, I'll find you some I promise, Vivienne, I fucking promise, but damn you don't need lingerie to look fucking amazing. You could make socks look cute as shit, damn. One of the fucking reasons I made you a wife besides you being so damn level-headed and reasonable was because you are cock-hardening and beautiful." Negan rushed to reassure her, but he didn't stop what he was doing. He even went to far as to tear her bra down the middle between the cups, and immediately Vivienne's breasts spilled out in all their full glory. Before Vivienne could protest any further, Negan had his face buried between her breasts, nipping and sucking and kissing so well that Vienne could do little more but moan.

Gratified by his compliment, Vivienne was astounded that she could have Negan so weak like this. Weak not in a bad way, but in a way that he was so needy for her and he thought she was beautiful. It was really an ego boost.

Before Vivienne knew it, Negan was slicking himself up between her thighs and she was gripping his shoulders hard, nails digging in tight. She was begging him to fuck her, and then he was and Vivienne couldn't think, could barely breathe. All she saw was stars and Negan's beautiful face as he stared up at her, jaw dropped open and eyes glazed over from her. All too soon, Vivienne was coming around him, squeezing him tight and she didn't even know when her eyes shut of their own accord. Throwing her head back, she screamed his name and stretched her legs out wider, trying to accommodate all of him. Her toes curled so hard that her feet cramped, but she couldn't care less, he felt magnificent inside her, stretching her out.

But Negan wasn't finished yet. He was still hard and he was fucking her through her orgasm, prolonging it until she was overly sensitive and it was almost painful. Negan dropped one hand down from her hip to rub her clit, rolling it between his fingers. Surely Negan meant it when he said he would provide for her, and he was making up for all of it now.

Vivienne was bouncing herself on him now, riding hard, so close to her second peak that she was almost crying, throat hoarse already. Then she caught sight of Negan's face, and he looked angry. "What the fuck is it, Fat Joey? Can't you see I'm busy balls fucking deep in my wife?"

Immediately, Vivienne slowed the roll of her hips and clutched her chest, attempting to cover herself. She tried to climb off, but Negan wouldn't let her, holding her in place by the hand he had on her ass and the way he pinched her clit between his fingers. He was still thrusting into her furiously, and his eyes were trained on her, but she could tell but the press of his lips that he wasn't happy being interrupted.

"S-sir," Fat Joey stammered, "S-Simon said that that group we suspect of killing our outpost is moving out. He, uh, radioed and already set up multiple roadblocks." He stuttered again, a little louder of the sound of slick flesh slapping against skin, "D caught at least two of their own. It's, um, it's time now, sir. We should move out."

Watching Negan's face, captivated by him, and ashamed that she was still moaning so loudly with Fat Joey just over there by the door, Vivienne came again loudly. Negan didn't, though, slowly down and pulling out of her, rubbing her through her orgasm and petting his other hand through her hair soothingly. He grit his teeth, obviously furious, but his voice was sweet when he whispered to her, "You were fucking magnificent, Vivienne, and I promise I'll make this up to you later. I'll get you more clothes, too, I promise." Leaning forward, Negan pressed a tender kiss to Vivienne's open mouth. Then he shifted her off so gently, before he started tucking himself away.

"Fat Joey? You better stay here and do whatever the fuck Vivienne asks you. Go find clothes in the commissary, bring her some fucking snacks. Make this up to her since you couldn't wait outside." Negan stood and passed the remains of Vivienne's dress to Fat Joey, his look thunderous and dangerous. "Make sure it's her fucking size or I'll beat the shit outta you."

Sitting on the couch in a puddle of her own juices, Vivienne wasn't sure what to do. Negan turned back to look at her fondly and promised again, "I'll make it up to you, Vivienne." Then he left, and Vivienne was left bereft and bare, though utterly satisfied and spent.

The next day, though, Negan did in fact make it up to her, several times over. Of course, one of the best ways he made it up to Vivienne was gifting her with a pair of kneesocks as a way to make up for her mangled bra and panties. When she looked at him in confusion, Negan only explained, "It's like I said. You can make a pair of socks look cute. And socks can fit any size, so I'll always be able to find you more." And he did.


End file.
